Away With the Fairies (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 2)

Fiona on Slippery Slope

The narrow path leading down to the lake started just behind the cottage - and looked uncomfortably steep.

"Um– Should we find another way?" she asked.

"I'll manage," he grumbled, and she looked at him bewildered.

"I don't mean you! I've seen you move! You're like a wild beast! Like when you jumped and took that umbrella away from me. I, on the other hand, will land at the bottom of this like a sack of potatoes!" she hissed and pointed down.

He chuckled.

"Like those little Tesco bags of baby potatoes?" he asked and gestured something round and small with his open left hand.

"Will, I'm serious!"

"C'mon, we can do it. A cripple and a baby potato. We're a team," he said, and she gave him a glare.

And of course, she slipped midway down, grabbed his left forearm, and as much as hung on it. He didn't budge even a smidge, obviously.

"Alright?"

"If the snow's so slippery, what am I doing going on ice?" she exclaimed and tried to regain her footing. "I'm a city girl, I can't–"

She slipped again and let go of him. She landed on her backside with an irritated 'ooph.' He stretched his hand down to her, and she got up with a grumble.

"I want to go back to the cottage. I'm not made for outdoors," she muttered.

"Giving up so quickly?" he asked, and then suddenly pulled her to him flush. Fiona gasped. "C'mon, baby potato, it'll be worth it."

She gave him a frown, and he smirked lopsidedly - and then quickly kissed her lips. Fiona blinked frantically.

There was a bench on the side of the rink, and he told her to sit. He himself had to sit on the ground. She took off her Sorel, and he picked up her foot.

"You're lucky you're as ickle as Clem," he said. Fiona shivered - not from cold, but from the sensation of his hand wrapping around her foot, even through the thick sock. "Alright, push your foot in," he said.

The skates looked like the ones figure skaters had on the telly. They were white and had pretty snowflakes drawn on them in silver. Once one boot was on, he suddenly settled the blade on his thigh.

"Wait!" she squeaked.

"It's not like a knife, love. And these are combat trousers," he said and started deftly lacing the boot.

She watched his strong long fingers mesmerised.

"It's a bit tight," she said gingerly. She didn't want to complain, but she was bricking it at this stage.

"It's to protect the ankle. Give it a go. We can always loosen them later."

The second skate was on, and he got up, pressing his hand into the bench.

"Alright, just grab my hands and walk like normal," he said.

She got up, wobbly and sweating like in a sauna, mostly from terror - and then he took a step backwards. Fiona frantically squeezed his hands.

"How do I walk normally?" she squeaked, and he smiled.

"One foot in front of the other. You need to get to the ice to start sliding."

They somehow got to the rink. It was small, of an irregular form, its fence made of random pieces of wood.

"Hold on," he said and placed her hands on the fence near the gate. He carefully stepped inside, but he didn't seem to be unstable. She assumed the army boots weren't slippery.